Chapter 22 – Niko #2
Her body shudders in my arms, and I tilt my head just enough to press my lips to her temple, sealing the promise.
“Do you want to go home?” I ask, low, my thumb brushing along her cheekbone.
“Yes,” she breathes, then swallows hard. “But first…I need to speak to Kirill.”
I search her eyes. Every instinct screams to deny her, to shield her from another second of this filth. But she’s unyielding, steel beneath the tremble. She deserves that much—to look the bastard in the eye.
My hand slips to the small of her back, guiding her as I lead her out of the wreckage of the warehouse. The air outside is damp and sharp, headlights from our convoy cutting through the fog.
Demyan is there, shoving Kirill toward one of the armored SUVs. The old dog is barely upright, blood caking his nose, one eye already swelling shut. He looks nothing like the smug bastard from earlier—he’s just a beaten man now.
“Hold,” I command.
Demyan freezes mid-push, glancing at me before stepping back. Kirill lifts his ruined face, and when his gaze finds Noelle beside me, his lip curls, even through the blood.
I keep my hand firm on her back, anchoring her. She wanted this moment—I’ll give it to her. But he doesn’t get one inch closer than I allow.
“So the daughter shows her teeth at last,” Kirill rasps, his voice broken but laced with malice.
I feel Noelle stiffen beside me, but when she speaks, her voice doesn’t shake. “You think I care about what happened between you and my mother? I didn’t even love her. She left me behind, remember? Abandoned me. You want me to carry her sins? I won’t.”
“But here’s the thing,” she presses on, each word sharper than the last. “A noble man—a real man—would never kill an innocent person for the mistakes of someone else. What you did, what you planned to do, it doesn’t make you powerful, Kirill. It makes you pathetic.”
His jaw flexes, but the fire in her doesn’t waver. She steps closer, my hand still firm on her back, and spits the words like poison:
“You’re not a man—you’re just a scared little boy who let shame eat him alive. And now? You deserve nothing but to rot in it. To live the rest of your days in disgrace. That’s worse than death, and that’s all you’ll ever know.”
Kirill’s face twists with fury, but the fury is hollow—it’s the rage of someone already broken.
I watch him, my own rage tempered by pride in her. My little dove, spitting venom at the very man who wanted to destroy her. Kirill spits blood in the dirt, but his glare follows us, burning and hollow. I don’t give him the satisfaction of a second glance. He’s already finished.
I turn Noelle away from him, my hand firm at the small of her back. She trembles, but her chin is still high, her words still hanging in the air like a blade buried in Kirill’s chest.
“Enough,” I murmur, low, meant only for her. My voice is rough from battle, but steady. Possessive. “You’ve said what needed to be said. He’ll choke on those words for the rest of his miserable life.”
She exhales shakily, and I guide her toward the waiting car. Every step I match with hers, shielding her from the stares of my men, from the ruin behind us.
At the curb, I open the back door myself and help her inside, one hand steadying her as though she might break. For the first time since I stormed that warehouse, I let myself breathe—because she’s here, alive, in my reach.
When I close the door, her wide eyes find mine through the glass. I don’t speak, but I press my palm against the window. A vow without words.
Then I circle to the driver’s side, my blood still hot, my mind already planning the punishment for those who dared touch her.
As the car eases out of the lot, I pull back slightly, just enough to see her profile in the dim light of the passing streetlamps.
She leans back against the seat, eyes closed, and I watch her breathe, trying to slow her racing heart.
The city blurs past outside, but inside this car, time has contracted into the small space between us.
Finally, I speak, my voice low, careful. “Why…why did you leave?”
She sucks in a breath, sitting up straighter, shoulders tense. “I…I was worried about you.”
I frown, feeling my chest tighten. “Worried? About me?”
“Yes,” she whispers. “I got a text on my phone. It said…you wouldn’t come back. I panicked.”
The words hit me in ways I hadn’t expected.
My jaw tightens, not in anger at her, but at the thought that she could ever doubt me.
I let out a slow, controlled sigh, trying to shake the residue of rage from the night.
“I’ll always come back for you,” I tell her, voice firm, unwavering.
“No matter what. Please…don’t put yourself in danger for me. ”
Her eyes open, glistening in the soft glow, and she gives me a small, tentative smile. “No, Niko. I’ll always have your back. Always. You think I’ll just sit and do nothing while you fight? That I’ll let you go alone?”
My chest contracts, a mix of frustration and fear knotting in me. “Noelle…you don’t understand. You shouldn’t. I won’t let you put yourself in danger for me. Ever.”
She shrugs, cool and unyielding. “My mind’s made up. You’re worth it. Always.”
I run a hand over my face, closing my eyes for a moment. Damn it. She’s relentless. Fierce. And I love that about her—but I hate that she’s willing to risk herself.
A long sigh escapes me. “Then I’ll have to step up,” I say, my voice low, almost a growl. “I’ll make sure you never have to risk yourself because of me. I’ll never…forget this, Noelle. I’ll never forget that I can’t let you put yourself in harm’s way for me. Not ever.”
She touches my arm, grounding me. And in that grip, in the weight of her trust and defiance, I swear to myself that I’ll carry the burden for both of us. Always.